


I'm gonna get over you

by EponineTheStrange (gallifreyandglowclouds)



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:47:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyandglowclouds/pseuds/EponineTheStrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Matt takes Karen out drinking, the morning after is spent holding a bucket as she spews cascades of alcohol up (fueling her raging headache. Matt feels sick watching, but it’s his Kazza and he gets into a fatherly state when she needs caring for. He’s there with water, toast (none of which she keeps down), paracetamol, and a flannel, for the 6 hours it takes her to get over it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm gonna get over you

“The  _bastard.”_

 _“_ I know, right?” Karen says, and takes another sip of her Mai Tai. “They were sleeping together.  _In my bed._ And they asked me to leave when I walked in!” 

Matt shakes his head and sips his beer. “So much for a new start in L.A.” 

She shrugs. “Everything was going pretty well up until that point. I liked him, Matt, I really did. But something about that made me want to just run the fuck home, where no one would ever cheat on me in my own bed.” 

“I’d always ask you permission first, and put up a sign.” 

She bats her eyes at him. “Oh, you’re such a gentleman.” She orders two tequila shots, and offers one to him. 

“Nah, I think you need it more.” 

She downs them both. Matt has a funny feeling that the night can only get worse from here. 

* * *

It does. Karen is Scottish, which says a lot about how much liquor she can cope with, but by the end of the night he’s practically carrying her home and praying that the paps don’t take stupid pictures of the two of them. He probably should have cut her off, but she’s a grown-up, and is staying at his flat so at least he can help her in the morning. 

Still holding her up, he manages to pull back the covers on his bed and place her in it with relative grace. He rolls her on to her side, and as he turns off the light, she whimpers, “Come sleep here with me, Matt.” 

As much as he would love nothing more than to curl up against her, he declines. “Not tonight, Kaz. I’ll be out on the couch, okay? Yell if you need anything.” 

She mutters something that he can’t make out, and he switches the light off and settles in on his couch for a good night’s sleep. 

* * *

Not surprisingly, he’s awake before she is, which gives him time to prepare for his day of making sure Karen doesn’t die of hangover. He makes a bunch of toast, because if she can keep anything down, that’ll be it. He fills up his water cooler and sticks it in the fridge, empties out one of the wastebaskets, puts an extra toothbrush in the bathroom, finds all of his terrible rom-coms (he still can’t believe he even owns terrible rom-coms, but he inherited most of Karen’s DVD stash when she moved to the states), finds his supply of paracetamol and every blanket he has in the house, and even gets some of Karen’s favourite tea (another bequest) down from the cupboard he keeps it in. 

He reviews the script for a new movie he’s thinking of doing for about twenty minutes before he hears her get up suddenly and sprint to the bathroom. He follows her there, and holds back her hair as she pukes. 

She turns around and sits on the tile floor as he reaches behind her to flush the toilet. Karen doesn’t seem to want to move, so he just rubs her back and she rests her head on his shoulder. 

“I am swearing off booze.” 

“We’ll see how long that lasts.” 

She pokes him in the arm for that one. “My head feels like someone just set a bomb off in it.” 

“I’ve got paracetamol and water. Also, I thought that you might be in need of a toothbrush, so the pink one up there is yours.” 

“Thanks,” she grumbles. She gets up and brushes her teeth, then grabs the glass of water Matt leaves for her on the bathroom counter and takes a couple of paracetamol. 

She doesn’t keep it down, though, so the headache doesn’t get any better. The same happens with the toast, so she just gives up on eating and sticks to water. He feels terrible every time that she pukes, and kicks himself for letting her get so drunk the night before. 

Karen doesn’t want the TV on, because any kind of light makes her headache worse, so she just passes out on the couch, and Matt goes and pokes her every so often to make sure that she’s alive. 

“Hey stupid,” she mutters, “come over here and take a nap with me.” 

All of his better instincts tell him that he should decline that offer, but he goes and lies down with her on the couch. Her limbs wrap around him like they always do, and it makes his heart race so much that he spends a lot of ‘naptime’ looking at the ceiling and trying not to freak out, because all he wants to do is lose himself in her warmth, her smell, just  _her_ and she probably doesn’t share those desires. 

He cooks her dinner that night, which she manages to keep down. 

A few days later he drives her back to the airport, because she’s still got things to do in LA. He drives to a spot where he can see the runway, and watches planes take off until he sees the one he’s pretty sure is hers. 

This time, though, they keep in touch, and when she comes back to the UK for good a year later, she isn’t running from some asshole, she’s running to him. 


End file.
